The Blue Shirt
by blueoleandar93
Summary: Declan is entranced by Kyle's blue shirt. Epic-ness ensues. Kylan, Decle, Kyle/Declan whichever my fellow hash slinging slashers prefer.


The Blue Shirt

POV: Declan

**Author Note: Written ages ago, before Declan knows much about Kyle. Hell, before Kyle even leaves the Tragers to go see his "Dad". I don't have any spoilers for anyone who's in the middle of the series, because this is written before anything spoil worthy happened in the Kyle XY shiznit. Kylan for the wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!**

**- BlueOllie**

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><p>There it was. A single blue, cotton tee shirt. Floating carelessly upon the body of angel. It hugged the angel's form closely in all the right places, leaving space for my imagination in the looser areas of the cloth. How could I not be enticed? How could I not long for the soft, supple skin the blue shirt hides? Forget the shirt. What I really want is what wore it. Or should I say <em>who<em>?

Due to my bitter attraction, I should be ashamed of my dirty thoughts and filthy intentions toward the wearer of this blue shirt. But I'm not. I wish for this wearer in the sorriest of ways. But I feel no regret. Why should I? I don't pursue it and I don't plan on doing so. Admiration from afar is a known skill of mine. Just the very hint of pleasure I get from my vivid dreams while I lose myself in my sleep is enough to satisfy me.

The shirt floated past, fitted and subtle, chic and simple, gorgeous in its own right when someone capable of such magical eyes chooses it as attire. At its closest point to me, I regress, I almost fainted. There was such beauty, such elegance in gait, that this shirt wearer struck me dumb. For speech is irrelevant when one feels the way I do. Brilliant. I feel like a thirteen year old girl, fallen stupid for someone unworthy. But this angel...surpasses me in all aspects of the word _worth_. This shirt that was cast upon the body of such a beautiful person isn't even worth my chest.

Oh, Kyle. Why you? Why you and your blue eyes? Your dark hair and your pouted lips. Your flushed cheeks and your mouthwatering arms. Your strong stable chest and navel lacking stomach that looks soft enough to touch. Please speak to me, please look at me, please...oh, please invite me into your bath tub. I want it to be lusty, powerful, beautiful. I want you in the most passionate, most desperate of ways. I want you in the sweetest, tenderest of ways. I want you so bad, it's driving me mad.

Then you walk away. Further. You disappear. Oh, Kyle. Curse my addiction to you. You taste of the sweetest poison in my dreams. Kill me with your eyes! Grace me with a glance! My God. I am such a shameful bastard. But once again, I feel no regret. I still want you. Not your sister. I dream of you. Not your sister. With your tall frame, stable body, and piercing eyes. Kiss _me_. Take me dead or alive. Throw me away, release me from my pain. I'm no good. You're all good. Kyle, I-

"Declan?" a deep voice said my name worriedly, "You okay?"

"Oh! Yeah, dude, I'm good," I nodded, staring into the coffee Lori made for me a few minutes ago before traipsing upstairs to slather on some make up. Everything suddenly seemed so insignificant now that Kyle was here. Oh, his expression. So innocent. He didn't know a damn thing other than textbook information and math. He doesn't ever understand anything at first either. When anyone says anything, I mean _anything_, he always immediately gives full attention, eyes confused and hopeful, longing to learn. Nevertheless the thought of why someone such as me would be so deep in thought about someone like him would puzzle him. Well...maybe not. He's so innocent and willing to learn that he will probably think it's normal for a man to want another. I took a sip of coffee. Oh, well. Good thing, on him, the innocent look is kinda hot.

"I was watching this movie with Josh and I was wondering something," Kyle asked, his back to me as he pulled a pack of Sour Patch Kids out of the cabinet.

"Okay, shoot," I shrugged, undressing him with my eyes until he turned around.

Kyle sat across from me, hands folded on the counter in front of him before asking simply, "What's the point of sexual intercourse if conception is unintended?"

I almost choked on my coffee, "What?"

"What's the point of-"

I held up my palms and begged, "I heard you!"

"Oh," he said, eyebrows furrowed and eyes set on mine, expecting an explanation, "Do you know?"

I paused, "Uh...I dunno. It feels good, I guess. Why?"

"It does? It sounds painful. For both parties. I mean imagine something this big," he touched his index finger to his thumb, "trying to fit into something this small," he gestured to his thumb nail, "That _can't _be good."

"What were you watching anyway?"

"Nine Months. You know, Cary Grant," he shrugged.

"Oh, well, if that's the case," I laughed, "You'd be shocked. Sex entertains most everyone."

Kyle gave me a blank stare, eyes as worried as they were beautiful, "Really? ...that's gross..."

"Dude, you're not serious, are you?"

"Completely serious," Kyle's baby blues grew wider, "Is that a bad thing?"

"A little," I sighed in disbelief, "Come on, Kyle. Don't you ever get in the mood?"

Kyle looked horrified, "The mood to do what? Sex?"

"We're talking about it, aren't we?"

"...yeah," he agreed.

I sighed in disappointment, "Don't you wanna do it with Amanda?"

"No! I just want her to be my wife."

"Yeah, the mother of your kids."

"Eventually, I guess."

"You're hopeless, Kyle."

"How?" he asked angrily. Anyone could clearly tell he has been struggling with this for a decent amount of time. He didn't understand how and why someone would _want _to have sex. It looks as if he doesn't even find it appealing. Yeah, he shouldn't be talking to me about this seeing as he's the object of my affection. I would probably do anything to screw him and here he is shuddering as if it's gross, scary even.

I mumbled, "There's no real problem. I guess you'll just be extremely healthy. No chance you're getting any life threatening diseases spread through that, so...yeah. You're pretty much good that way."

"It spreads life threatening diseases? What's wrong with these people?" Kyle asked incredulously, completely shocked. Guess he's never heard of STD's.

"They like it."

"How could one?"

I paused, "It just happens. Like when you see the right person and everything about you wants that special person to be a part of you. You just see the two of you together."

His eyes brightened, "That's beautiful."

"Exactly," I said, trying not to stare into his eyes. Maybe he'll see who the right person for me is. Him. I added calmly, "Or you just kiss someone and want it."

"How does that feel?"

I blushed, "I dunno. Like a chill down your spine."

Kyle's eyes grew scared.

"Figure of speech."

His eyes relaxed, "But I still feel ...not right. Can you help me want it?"

"Nope."

"It's not like either of us would get a fertilized egg."

I sighed, "Kyle, we're both male."

"I know that, and that's why it's perfect. Intercourse without conception. That was my question. And you're going to help me."

I felt myself get hot around the ears, "Uh...no. I'm dating Lori."

"It won't mean anything. We're not emotionally attached."

"Kyle."

"How'd you say that kiss worked?"

"Kyle. Dude! Mmm," I murmured as he pressed his lips to mine, causing sparks to ignite in its touch. We're _so _right for each other. I could feel it in his gentle kiss. Our lips ceased their expedition as quickly as they'd started. Kyle breathed worriedly, "My heart's pounding quick. Why?"

I blushed, not meeting his eyes, "Oh, my... God. If Lori finds out, I'm dead."

"Why does my face feel weird?" he asked as it reddened slowly. Wow, that was cute.

"Because you're nervous / embarrassed / shocked," I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. Oh, Kyle. Why did you kiss me? What the hell? I'm not complaining. His lips feel like warm butter on a lazy Sunday afternoon..., but I have a girlfriend. I promised myself this insistent crush I've developed on Kyle would just die away eventually. Now I can see. Ever since this kiss we shared, it has planted itself in my head, budding and growing and blossoming into a huge, obsessive addiction. I wanted more from him. I always have and now, I always will.

Kyle breathed with a grin, "I wanna do it again."

"Oh... Lord. This could be bad. Very bad."

"How?" he laughed, leaning over the table to give me a slow kiss. Time grew lethargic, everything became useless. I wanted him more than air. Oh, Kyle. Kiss me. Please. Kiss me on the couch, kiss me in the car, kiss me in your room. Kiss me forever. My hands slid up his chest and grabbed his collar, pulling him closer. He was so perfect. Shy, yet needy. Slowly understanding what a kiss was. Especially one like this. Its softness, slow passion, peaking at hope. I loved him. And my body wanted to expose me. He couldn't know. Not for a second.

I broke the kiss and pushed him back into his seat, "No, Kyle. Sit. Bad boy. Bad."

Kyle's eyes grew wide and his face blushingly pink, "I understand. Kind of. My face is still tingly. It's because I'm all three of those things...let's have sex!"

"Dammit, Kyle!"

END

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><p><strong>Author Note: I've always wanted someone to just tell Kyle like it is in the series. Too bad no one ever did. Sadness. Well, I'm usually a hoot, but it's 1:12 in the fucking morning. I'm going to bed.<strong>

**- BlueOllie**


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